Birthday

I used to find the months, weeks, days, and hours before my birthday unbearable. It couldn't arrive quickly enough and ended far too soon. But that is how most kids are and that is part of the joyous torture of childhood. To say I find them unbearable as a full fledged adult would be a bit of hyperbole but I'm not terribly excited. I feel like they come too fast now, not because I'm down in the face about aging, I actually dig that part, but because I can't seem to find the time to spend the day in a way that feels celebratory. A day that doesn't place the burden on others to create happiness for me. I can't help myself but I always want something grand to happen on my birthday. I want some kind of unexpected loveliness, evidence of someone's planning and forethought to surprise me.

I e-mailed some friends at the next to the last minute and a few of them are going to join me for dinner with my parents in Virginia. Only now I don't really want to go anymore. I want to sit in my apartment in my underwear and work my way up to showering and running errands like getting a 40lb bag of dog food. I want to wander around alone, feel sorry for myself for about 30 seconds and then take myself and a good book somewhere for dinner that we haven't tried yet.

I know I'll have fun with my friends and it will be great to see them. But I really, really, really, REALLY don't want to drive down to VA and back. I'm over that trip completely, especially for an overnighter. I would take the train (and oh how I love the train) but my old neighbor and sometimes friend absolutely insisted I bring my dog with me if I came so her boys (also dogs) could see her because they miss her. There is drama in having Baloo stay with me at my parent's house that I'm just not willing to put up with on my birthday so I will leave her at my neighbor/friend's house and shuttle back and forth between the two houses to feed and walk my dog with her dogs. It's a lot for one night and I'm ready to skip it. It annoys the shit out of me that my dad's nose gets so out of joint over dog hair. I love him but he can be a jerk about some things. An unapologetic one at that. But it is his house so whatever. I just hate the look on my mom's face when I have to leave because my dog is being housed somewhere else, creating an obligation for me to spend time away from home, even if the purpose is to come visit them. And my dad realizes that he's being stupid about it but just keeps asking me if labradors can be shaved or he talks about inventing something that will statically charge Baloo's hair and then have her pass through some filter that snatches all the stray hairs from her coat. I should stop talking about it, it makes me even less enthused to drive 3 hours for a meal. I should have told the sometimes friend no. If she wants the boys to see Baloo, she can bring them up here. But now I'm too late to get a sitter so she's coming. So at least three trips back and forth to feed and walk her for barely an overnighter. I'm so annoyed with myself. No cards are going out on time, I haven't given myself the head space to consider what to do for others, and now I'm absolutely dreading both my birthday and the event I have created to celebrate it. Ugh.

I'm getting grumpier as I age. But I still like this song.